


Keep your Enemies Closer

by OneTooManyDots



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Established enemies with benefits relationship, Fake Dating in the loosest of senses, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), but whoops they might have caught feelings, just a dash of breath play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25784233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneTooManyDots/pseuds/OneTooManyDots
Summary: Claude just wanted to get laid. Lorenz made it weird.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 21
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

The sun had already set, and Claude had just lit the candle he kept at his desk so that he could keep working on his essay as it got dark, when there was finally a knock on his door. _He should have just committed to the mind game and not showed up at all_ , he thought, annoyed but mostly amused. Lorenz was better at insults than manipulation.

“Just come in, it's open!” Claude called, not bothering to put away his school work.

Lorenz made a show of looking around as he entered the room, scowling, as if he expected Claude's bedroom to be less of a mess than the last time he saw it and was once again disappointed. “This is no way to receive a guest,” he said loudly, before closing the door.

“Well my guest is pretty late, and now I'm busy. Just give me a minute, won't you?”

Claude turned back around before he could see how affronted that made him, but he felt he had a pretty good idea anyway. Did he think he would sit there dejectedly, waiting for Lorenz Hellman Gloucester to deign appear and fuck him? Maybe he did, Lorenz wasn't exactly known for his humility. They could both play hard to get if they wanted, however, and while Lorenz's little act did manage to make him somewhat worked up, Claude suspected that Lorenz himself would have less patience for it than he did.

After a few more minutes of glaring at him from the centre of the room, Lorenz settled on the bed with a displeased click of the tongue. That in itself was something of a victory, since if he let Lorenz have it his way he would just sit in his only chair and go on and on about Alliance business in an attempt to pretend he was there for something other than getting off. Their whole song-and-dance sometimes involved an entire hour of spiteful political conversation and a pot of tea. Most of the time , he indulged Lorenz' s misplaced sense of propriety, and learned something more or less useful about House Gloucester's political stance in the process, but tonight he wasn't in the mood. And so because he did want to get on with it eventually, and because he didn't want to test if Lorenz had more pride then need, Claude put down his pen and leaned back in his chair.

“So, what _are_ you doing here so late?” he asked casually. “If you wanted to continue with the etiquette lesson you so helpfully subjected all of us to at diner, you could have waited for tomorrow's breakfast. Or should I go check the dining hall for leftovers? Sounds like the kind of thing you learn better with practice.”

He didn't wait for Lorenz's reply before getting up.

“If you remember this much about our conversation at dinner, surely you remember that we agreed to meet in order to discuss tomorrow's mission,” Lorenz said stiffly. He was watching Claude lock his bedroom door with badly feigned disinterest from the edge of the bed where he was sitting primly, legs crossed and back straight. Entirely too full of noble snobbery for what they were about to do, but telling him that wasn't going to get him out of his pants any faster. Claude wondered again if Lorenz left him waiting in order to rile him up.

“You're the one who's acting like you forgot the time we were supposed to meet, you know.”

Lorenz's expression almost made Claude believe that he _did_ forget, or lose track of the time, despite how unusual that would have been.

“Anyway, I think we better just get to doing what you're really here to do, since we all have to be up early tomorrow and all. I know you need _all_ of your beauty sleep.” He winked. Intentional or not, he intended to make Lorenz regret giving him an excuse to hurry this along.

Lorenz gave him a look that could only be described as something between “disdainful” and “resigned”, but he did uncross his legs, so they were getting somewhere. It was as much of an invitation as Claude was ever going to get. Ignoring every rule Lorenz ever managed to convince himself they had both agreed to, Claude crossed the room and plopped himself onto his lap.

“Wait!” Lorenz protested uselessly, even as his hands settled on Claude's hips. “There is something we need to discuss.”

“Oh, really?” Claude slid a hand up to the short hairs on the back of Lorenz's head. Lorenz let him. “What is it?”

When Lorenz tried to answer, he mashed their mouths together, kissing him hard and deep and intentionally sloppy. Lorenz's grip on his hips tightened, and Claude groaned against his mouth. Gods, he had been waiting to do this _all day_ , and he had to spend his entire dinner convincing Lorenz that this was his idea to avoid feeding his oversized ego. Any inclination he might have still had to listen to whatever it was Lorenz thought was so important had long left him by the time Lorenz showed up over an hour late.

He licked at Lorenz's mouth one last time before letting him go , unnecessarily wet. Lorenz tried to glare at him, though it looked more comical then threatening, especially with half of his face glistening with saliva.

“Must you make it so messy?” He grabbed a corner of Claude's bed sheets and dabbed at his mouth and chin.

“Hey, good sex is messy!” Claude wiped his mouth with his arm. “Unless it's just me. Why don't you find out?”

“I very well could,” Lorenz said, like he believed it.

“Uh uh.” For all of his whining, when Claude reached between them to press his palm to the front of Lorenz's crotch, he could feel he was already getting hard. He squeezed, and the quiet hiss that escaped from Lorenz went straight to his own cock.

Lorenz's hands were already under his shirt, and Claude would have loved to reciprocate, but –

“Why are you still wearing this?” He tugged at the stiff collar of Lorenz's uniform. “Just leave it in your room.”

Lorenz looked at Claude like he should know exactly what Lorenz thought of that. Which he did, to his great regret. “I have already told you that showing up at you door half naked would not be the least bit subtle.”

“And then I pointed out that we clearly have very different definitions of _naked_.” He made to start undoing Lorenz's jacket, but Lorenz batted his hands away.

A beat passed, and a snarky quip asking why nothing was happening was on the tip of Claude's tongue, but he let it die there when Lorenz started undressing.

By the time Claude had gotten his undershirt over his head and on the floor, Lorenz was still only halfway through taking off his jacket. Sometimes he told himself it was like watching an overdecorated present unwrap itself, and sometimes he did find the meticulous way Lorenz's fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, and the long-awaited first glimpse of collarbone, to be tantalizing rather then frustratingly slow. But most of the reason why he didn't try to rush Lorenz through this was because he had learned nothing would be made faster by prompting him to throw a fit about wrinkles.

Finally, Lorenz placed his signature fabric rose delicately on top of his neatly arranged clothes. Claude's annoyance must have shown on his face, because Lorenz raised an eyebrow at him. “So impatient.”

Claude made himself smile. “More like you're the one always taking his sweet time. It's almost like you _want_ us to spend more time together.”

Lorenz made a derisive gesture. “Now that would be truly ridiculous.”

As if to emphasize his statement, he shoved Claude off of him so he could take off his boots. Before Claude could blink, Lorenz was lying on his back, looking up at him expectantly.

 _Well, that was easier than usual. How accommodating of him._ Claude just sighed as he straddled him again, but he was starting to feel something was off. Of course, he had hoped Lorenz would take the bait, but he had expected him to put up more of a fight. Whether it was his actual preference, the way he thought this ought to go, or his reaction to Claude's own attempts at setting the pace, Claude wasn't sure, but he usually had to fight Lorenz's tendency to slow things down to a crawl before they even got this far. Yet tonight Lorenz was being relatively compliant, and while that was all very convenient, it still made Claude uneasy.

Or was it simply because of the extra hour wait? It wouldn't be the first time Lorenz ended up playing himself.

And then Lorenz was pulling him down towards him, and they were kissing again and grinding their hips together, and Claude's thoughts of anything that wasn't Lorenz's soft lips or his tongue in his mouth or the sensual roll of his hips evaporated.

It probably said something about the both of them that they were still hard even after all of Lorenz's fussing. There was a reason why this had not remained a one time thing, despite Claude's original intentions. He had meant to kiss Lorenz's pretty face, ride his presumably equally pretty dick, and move on to less tedious undertakings, but even their awkward first time had been gratifying enough to fuel Claude's fantasies for weeks, and before he knew it he had been on his knees next to Lorenz's bed, indulging his curiosity about the taste of Lorenz's cock.

Lorenz's hands and mouth, even just his eyes on him, always left him so _hungry_. Lorenz must be feeling something similar, for how eagerly he opened his mouth against his, and how insistently he ran his hands over Claude's back.

Claude pulled away with a last tug at Lorenz's bottom lip, and he managed to sound less breathless than he felt when he teased, “Who's impatient now?”

Lorenz rolled his hips against Claude's one more time, most of his face flushed pink. “I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you are the one who started it.”

 _Only because you like to pretend you're too well bred to get horny._ Claude distracted himself from the urge to start another argument by bringing his mouth to Lorenz's throat, leaving a trail of little kisses that gradually turned into nips.

Lorenz brought a hand to Claude's hair, giving it a couple warning tugs. “Careful.”

Claude didn't have to ask what Lorenz was worried about. The mark he had left on Lorenz's shoulder hadn't completely disappeared yet, but it had faded to an ugly shade of yellow-green.

He pressed a finger on it. “I bet the colour kind of matched your hair at some point. It doesn't look so good right now, though.”

“It never did look good.” Lorenz glared at him. Claude wasn't convinced. “I do not need to be reminded of your mouth on me every time I undress.”

“You'd see it a lot less if you spent less time preening.” He traced the curve of Lorenz's shoulder with a finger, then tapped the side of his neck gently. “Or maybe you'd start liking it if you had more opportunity to get used to it?”

“Do _not.”_

Claude considered doing it anyway, to give their classmates something to gossip about, but he wasn't completely sure that it wouldn't cross a line and make Lorenz remember he had dignity. Instead, he kissed the side of Lorenz's neck, enjoying the way his entire body went rigid as he prepared to push him off, then bit the spot where the fading bruise was, licked and sucked harshly until Lorenz was squirming under him.

He could see Lorenz's jaw clench from the corner his eye as he gritted his teeth to try to hold back his little whimpering noises. It didn't work any better than the last time. Claude had spent the last few days thinking about those noises every time Lorenz was nagging him about some thing or another, and found it greatly improved the experience.

When he thought he had left a good enough mark to give Lorenz something new to complain about, Claude went to pull back. Near instantly, Lorenz grabbed a handful of his hair, holding him in place.

“Don't stop,” he demanded, as if he was currently in a position to _demand_ anything.

And yet it sounded just needy enough that Claude couldn't stop. He picked a slightly different spot and bit again, harder. The sound Lorenz made was dangerously close to being loud enough for someone outside to hear. He closed his fist in Claude's hair, tugging hard enough to make Claude wince, the fingers of his other hand digging into Claude's ribs hard enough to hurt, and the physicality of it was driving Claude wild. Lorenz's thin veneer of restraint wasn't nearly difficult enough to scratch off for how rewarding it felt, yet every time Claude managed to draw a less than perfectly dignified reaction out of him still felt like a victory.

Did Lorenz feel the same way about Claude moaning against his shoulder, about Claude's nails trailing down his side? The thought of Lorenz smugly proud of being the object of Claude's desire made him dig his nails in a little harder.

They were moving against each other with a new sense of urgency, grinding against each other as best as they could while being still half clothed, and Claude knew he could sneak his hand between them right then and make it end, abrupt and messy, before either of them even took off his pants. But as entertaining as it was to imagine sending Lorenz on a sticky, if very short, walk of shame back to his room, Claude had other plans.

He disentangled Lorenz's fingers from his hair so he could sit up, pausing when he saw the state of Lorenz's shoulder. _Oh, these are going to look nasty tomorrow._ Following Claude's line of sight, Lorenz brought a hand his new bite marks, feeling the indent left by Claude's teeth. He frowned, but didn't say anything.

Claude started taking off his pants and Lorenz seemed to take that as his cue to do the same, still strangely compliant. On a whim, he decided to arrange himself on his back. That seemed to catch Lorenz's interest.

“Oh? This is different.” He looked Claude up and down critically, and Claude could almost feel it when his gaze lingered on his face, then his chest, slid over his stomach, stopped again at his crotch. Claude spread his legs wider, getting a little thrill of satisfaction when Lorenz swallowed.

“Spicy, I know. Try not to get too excited.” Claude smiled. “Just thought I'd like to be looking a your face for once.”

“Of course. Perfectly understandable.” Lorenz ran a hand through his hair in that way Claude was sure he thought was irresistible, and Claude had to admit the effect was rather improved by Lorenz kneeling naked between his legs.

“Well, I'm not doing any of this for your personality.” He kept smiling as Lorenz's cocky smirk faded.

“The feeling is mutual, I assure you.” Lorenz's caressed the inside of Claude thigh, and if felt weirdly out of place after their earlier intensity. Claude started to rethink his opinion about Lorenz and mind games, because if this was the moment he chose to go back to _slow,_ then this was an excruciatingly effective choice if his goal was to make Claude scream in frustration.

Then Lorenz's hand stilled, his expression turning almost regretful. “You really _are_ pretty.”

Claude froze. There was no way he was going to believe Lorenz was _this_ good at fucking with him, but on the other hand they didn't _do_ compliments. He was still trying to decide if he needed to brace himself for a sappy declaration of love or the announcement of Lorenz's impending death when Lorenz added, unnecessarily dramatically, “We need stop doing this.”

 _Ah_. Claude felt his heartbeat slow back down to more appropriately elevated pace. He had been expecting them to have this conversation eventually. But not right now, for what should have been obvious reasons.

“Sure. Eventually.” He dragged Lorenz's hand higher on his thigh, hoping that would inspire him to drop the subject. But Lorenz still didn't move. Claude blinked. “Uh. You mean right now?”

When Lorenz didn't answer, Claude tried to wiggle alluringly.

“Well, maybe not right this moment.” Lorenz started stroking Claude's dick distractedly, as if out of habit. It occurred to Claude that they had been doing this long enough to develop _habits_ , and maybe this meant Lorenz had a point. “But we both know this should have been a one time occurrence. This is a danger to both of our reputations, and it ends tonight.”

Somehow, despite the two spectacular new bruises blooming on his shoulder, and being about five minute away from his dick being inside Claude, Lorenz was dead serious. Claude suddenly realized that Lorenz had never meant to show up tonight at all. Maybe he had even managed to convince himself he was showing up to Claude's room for nothing but a conversation. And yet they ended up going for one last round and, well. This explained some things.

But despite their game of denial and false modesty, they had been doing this for months without Lorenz giving it any second thoughts, at least not that Claude knew of. Did some rumour about them crop up recently? Claude liked to believe he kept himself well informed of such things, but Lorenz did tend to hang out with the kind of bored noble crowd that loved sharing gossip.

“Interesting timing to start this conversation,” Claude said, though he was realizing that this is what Lorenz wanted to talk about before they started, “but why don't we just finish this first.” He had to get this back on track before he was distracted further by trying to figure out Lorenz's motivation. Lorenz's soft, purposeless strokes were not enough to take Claude's attention away from the five different plans he had already though of to make Lorenz change his mind, and it was no great loss when he let go.

“Not telling you would have been dishonest.” Lorenz looked annoyed, probably because Claude wasn't more devastated by the news. “I have a standard of behaviour I hold myself up to, unlike you.”

That was a bold statement for him to make even as he was coating his fingers with oil, but before Claude could comment on that, Lorenz sank two fingers inside him, slow but firm, and Claude groaned in relief. He pushed himself against Lorenz's hand encouragingly, trying to urge him on despite knowing full well Lorenz would do as he pleased. Lorenz pushed one of Claude's thighs to his chest with his other hand to get a better view as he pumped his fingers in and out. Claude cursed every second he had ever spent showing Lorenz _exactly_ how he liked him to do this, and cursed Lorenz for apparently remembering every one of them.

“ _Lorenz_.” It came out much whinier than he meant it to.

Lorenz slowed down but didn't completely stop, merciless, fingers deep inside Claude's hole. “Perhaps this is good enough for you.”

It had better be a bluff, because Claude would rather come like this and let Lorenz finish his own damn self using only his smug feeling of superiority as fuel then beg Lorenz for his dick. Surely that wouldn't be a satisfying finale for either of them.

“Are you sure that's really how you want to end things?” he taunted instead, despite being convinced that this was not, in fact, the end. Lorenz could be reasoned with sometimes and manipulated the rest of the time, Claude simply had to find the right angle–

The feeling of Lorenz withdrawing his fingers put an end to that train of thought. “No, you are right,” Lorenz said with a sigh, almost like an apology. “Now isn't the time to be petty.”

Lorenz's mood swings were threatening to give Claude whiplash, although there was nothing unfamiliar about the careful and deliberate way he pushed his long cock inside Claude to the hilt, even if Claude didn't usually get to see the way Lorenz's brow furrowed in concentration. He was always so needlessly gentle when they did this.

He held still, as he usually did, to give Claude some time to get used to the feeling, and for no reason that Claude could think of, kissed the side of Claude's knee. Claude wanted to make fun of him for getting emotional, or for whatever this was, but then Lorenz was resting his head against Claude's knee, his cheek warm and pink, and he was looking at Claude with an expression he didn't want to interpret. Did he always look at Claude like this, or was it that this was the last time?

 _Except there's no way he won't change his mind within a week when he couldn't even keep himself from coming tonight_ , Claude reminded himself.

Lorenz was right, this was different. Claude was finding he much preferred the simplicity of a faceful of pillow. Maybe they shouldn't do it this way ever again.

 _Maybe we won't do it_ any _way ever again._

_Fuck._

“You should move now.” It said something about Claude's particular skill set that he still managed to sound cheerful.

So Lorenz did, in long, slow strokes that had Claude squirming and straining in any way he could to try to get more friction. They never lasted long anyway past this point, no matter how slow Lorenz tried to make it. Claude blamed it on some abstract concept of sexual chemistry, because that was as good an explanation as any for why the very idea that it was _Lorenz_ touching him _,_ filling him, always seemed to get him half way there on it's own.

“ _Harder,_ Lorenz, come on!”

He was too loud, half wishing someone would hear him and that Lorenz's objections would become irrelevant. With a distressed noise, Lorenz clamped a hand over his mouth, putting some of his weight on it as he tried to brace himself and quicken his pace. It pushed Claude's head harshly against the pillow, forcing him to breath through his nose, and, _oh_ _fuck_ , what a way for Claude to discover he was into that. He started moaning as loud as he could against Lorenz's hand, to make sure he didn't get any ideas about removing it.

His enthusiastic display was apparently doing something for Lorenz, who started struggling to maintain his even rhythm. One especially hard, deep thrust had Claude's hand flying to his cock, and through the haze of his incoming orgasm he had the presence of mind to use his legs to lock Lorenz in place so he didn't try to pull out, because otherwise he might have, _like a gentleman_.

There was nothing exaggerated about the volume of Claude's moans anymore. He had one last semi coherent thought about giving Lorenz a bit more of a show, and he let his back arch just a little bit farther than necessary, before the world narrowed down to nothing but his ass tightening around the last of Lorenz's thrusts and his cock pulsing in his hand as he came all over his stomach and chest. Seconds later Lorenz went still, and Claude wrapped his arms around him to better feel the tremors go through him as the last shivers his own orgasm faded.

Lorenz slumped against him and for a moment they stayed like this. Lorenz's heavy breathing was loud in Claude's ear, tickling his cheek. Claude's head was still pleasantly fuzzy when Lorenz finally removed his hand from his mouth, making it easier for him to catch his breath. He was lucky Lorenz got up in the same movement, or else he might have turned his head to the side and kissed him, and _that_ would have been embarrassing.

He was in no hurry to clean himself up and prepare for sleep, and he simply sat on the bed and yawned as he watched Lorenz dress. “So.” He waited until Lorenz's attention was on him to continue. “Guess I won't see you next time,” he said, to test Lorenz's resolve.

“Indeed not,” Lorenz said with finality. He was fussing with his rose, as if the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead didn't already make him look less than perfectly put together. As if any of it made a difference when the door to his own room was a few steps away.

There was a new awkwardness between them as the silence stretched. Claude felt a sudden urge to say something nice in parting, as if to do otherwise would be ungrateful. What he was supposed to be grateful for, he wasn't sure.

Though Lorenz might be easier to persuade to go back on his word if he believed he was doing Claude a favour. Claude was still weighting that idea against his pride when Lorenz reached to door. Just as he was about to leave, Lorenz turned around, as if he had forgotten something. In a couple long strides, he was back to Claude's side, and for a comically confused moment Claude wondered if he forgot to put his underwear back on.

Then Lorenz kissed him on the cheek, chaste and sweet, and Claude was no less confused.

“For the memories,” Lorenz explained, smiling at Claude like he had just given him the Goddess's own gift.

“Oh,” was all Claude managed, which did nothing to correct that impression.

And then Lorenz was gone, leaving Claude to appreciate how fortunate he was for not knowing what went on in Lorenz's head sometimes.

When Claude caught himself, hours later, still awake and thinking about Lorenz instead of battle tactics, he told himself it was because he was still annoyed that he let Lorenz have the last word.


	2. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone want more of this but with a nonsensical plot as an excuse for blow jobs? I sure did. Enjoy?

Claude wasn’t wrong, exactly. It took only two days, a few subtly suggestive comments, and not as much of sitting just a bit too close in the dining hall as one might have expected for Lorenz to suggest – well, request – that they talk, _privately_. Except that, instead of leading them towards the dormitory, Lorenz took them to their empty classroom, closed the doors, planted himself firmly in the middle of the room, and waited.

Claude guessed that Lorenz hadn’t changed his mind so completely that he was willing to have sex in a public place in broad daylight. He sat on one of the tables, both to annoy Lorenz and so he wouldn’t be towering above him. “What’s up?”

Lorenz took a deep breath. Then, with absolute serious, he spoke the most ridiculous string of words Claude had heard all year.

“If you truly insist that we keep this up at the risk of being discovered,” he said, with the confidence of someone making a generous concession, “being engaged would do quite a bit to lessen the scandal.”

Claude snorted loudly. Lorenz stiffened.

They stared at each other, Lorenz’s flawless posture full of noble dignity as he raised his chin to _dare_ Claude to interrupt again, and that was all Claude could take. _Engaged._ Their classmates must have heard his laughter all the way back in the dining hall. It was only on his third attempt that he was able to calm down enough to say something.

“Lorenz–”

He almost choked on another fit of laughter. _Engaged._ He had to take another moment to calm himself before he could continue.

“While I am flattered to learn that you think my ass feels _that_ good,” he ignored Lorenz's objection, “this is the worst idea you’ve ever had, and there is some fierce competition.”

“I did not mean – oh, never mind.” Lorenz rolled his eyes when Claude started snickering again. _Engaged._ “I should have known better than to expect you to be reasonable.”

“No, no, please tell me all about what it is about our relationship that makes you want to keep inflicting it on the both of us forever.”

If Lorenz had been someone more cunning and less straightforward, this entire thing, from the first time they had taken each other’s clothes off to whatever this was Lorenz was proposing, could have been a clever way to ensure he could keep an eye on Claude outside of the academy. Of course, if Lorenz had been less straightforward, there would be the pretense of a friendship for them to feign to maintain instead of open one-sided hostility, and he wouldn’t need so convoluted an excuse to stay close.

As it was, Claude fully expected what was between them, both the part where Lorenz figuratively breathed down his neck and the part where he literally did so, to end with their graduation. In truth, he had expected the latter to end months ago as a one time thing, then two week later as a five times thing. He could have let it end two days ago, but that felt too much like letting Lorenz have his way, and he didn’t want to set that kind of precedent. He should end it here, now that Lorenz had made it clear he did not want it to, but doing it one last time would really prove that Lorenz couldn’t give this up so easily. And at that point, they might as well do it a few more times, for good measure.

_Engaged._

“Suit yourself.” Lorenz's voice snapped him back to reality. “I won't ask twice, but you know where to find me if you change your mind.” His tone strongly implied that he did expect Claude to change his mind and accept his gracious offer. He shot Claude one last wounded look before he left, and Claude made a mental note to add _ask Lorenz for his hand in marriage_ to his list of things to not do.

A couple weeks later, however, the joke had stopped being funny, and the last of Lorenz’s scent had been washed out of his sheets.

\---

“Of course I was not suggesting that we actually get married, how stupid do you believe I am?”

Lorenz sounded awfully high and mighty for someone with his pants off and his worst enemy kneeling between his legs, but if he wasn't already aware of it, then Claude wasn't volunteering to tell him. Since Claude did manage to convince him to let him suck his dick one more time after he had insisted their previous time together was the last, well, the honest answer was: at least a little bit stupid.

“You really shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answer to.” Claude gave one long lick to Lorenz's rapidly hardening cock. “What were you suggesting then? I'm sure the answer will amaze me.”

“Engagements are broken all the time for all sorts of reasons. I was–” Lorenz took a sharp breath when Claude took his half hard dick into his mouth. His voice was impressively steady when he continued, “I obviously meant it as a temporary solution to a temporary problem. Do not think so highly of yourself.”

“Mmhmm.” Claude moaned his answer around Lorenz's cock, leaving him free to interpret it as he pleased. He pushed Lorenz's legs farther apart, to better fit his head between them. Lorenz did have really nice thighs. They were definitely one of the things Claude had missed about him these last few weeks. His attitude, however, didn't make the ranking.

“Claude.” Lorenz give his forehead a small push. Claude didn't budge, but he looked up. “I am sure this is equally distracting for both of us. Can we not have this conversation face to face, like reasonable people?”

Claude highly doubted that anything about this conversation was going to be reasonable, no matter where his face was situated, but he still slid his mouth off of Lorenz's dick to answer that, slowly and with an audible “pop”.

“Your condition for us to have sex is we follow your plan, and my condition for willingly listening to you talk long enough to explain it is we have sex. I'd say we have a perfectly good compromise going on.”

Claude had wanted to make this happen any other way, he really had, but Lorenz could be stubborn when he wanted to be. Or _strong-willed_ , if Claude wanted to be less mean, but surely thinking complimentary things about someone with the taste of their cock still in your mouth was a slippery slope to _something_.

“So we get engaged,” Claude said, stroking Lorenz’s saliva-slick cock, to prove that he had been listening. “Then we announce it, I’m guessing, since the entire point is for people to know. And then we publicly break it off when it stops being convenient.”

Lorenz nodded. He face was starting to get pink from pleasure, either from what Claude was doing with his hand or from hearing Claude parrot his own plan back at him.

Claude caressed his thumb over the slit, watching Lorenz’s face carefully. “But, that already sounds pretty inconvenient for you.” One more slow pump. Lorenz’s eyes followed his hand. “What about your own noble search for a spouse?”

The face Lorenz made did not disappoint. Claude tried to keep his expression politely curious while Lorenz glared at him, but the corners of his mouth were twitching towards a smile.

“I have decided to postpone it.”

He buried his chuckle into Lorenz’s thigh, though he knew Lorenz would feel it anyway. “More like Teach finally gave you _the talk_.”

“Shall I remind you that this is my room, and that I reserve the right to throw you out?”

There was something about the superposition of Lorenz’s haughtiness and the sight of his fully erect dick that would never stop being funny.

“Right, right.” He gave Lorenz a few more firm strokes, to placate him. No need to trade one type of fun for another. One of Lorenz’s hands went to his hair, but he didn’t pull.

“And do we need to play nice and pretend to get along?” He brought the head of Lorenz’s dick to his lips, so his breath would tease the tip. “Because I just saw your lying skills, and they need some work.”

“I doubt – ah –”

Lorenz’s hand twitched in his hair. Claude let the entirety of Lorenz’s length slide into his mouth. When his nose touched Lorenz’s pubic hair, he closed his eyes blissfully, and focused on breathing around the familiar pressure in his throat.

If he stayed still, Lorenz might be pleased with his perceived effort to keep the intensity at a conversational level, and leave him to get himself off in peace. Or rather, he corrected, as he gripped himself through the fabric of his pants, he might get too absorbed in listening to his own voice to notice Claude touching himself.

“I doubt we could convince anyone that–”

Claude swallowed, relishing the way his throat constricted around Lorenz’s familiar width. Lorenz tightened his grip in his hair, and Claude felt him take a deep, shuddering breath.

Sure, Claude could have found someone else who would let him do this, but then he couldn’t conjure the memory of them taking dainty little bites of stew and nagging him about the proper use of cutlery while he used their body for very improper purposes, and it just wouldn’t be the same.

“–that we are marrying for love.”

Maybe talking about marriage and love to someone who had your dick fully inside them was also a slippery slope to something. Maybe Lorenz could be convinced to let him finish this and himself before continuing this conversation. He was confident he could make it quick.

“In any case,” there was a noticeable strain in Lorenz’s voice, “the purpose of this is to _maintain_ our reputa–”

Claude didn’t mean to moan when he finally managed to unfasten his pants one handed, and he was sure Lorenz didn’t mean to jerk his hips. Maybe listening to Lorenz describe the lengths he was ready to go to in order to keep fucking him was kind of doing it for him, actually.

“We could probably–”

Should he make himself come, and leave Lorenz flushed and aching? Lorenz was the one to insist that they stop this, so he could, presumably, take care of himself. That’s what Claude would say to him as he cleaned himself with one of Lorenz’s handkerchiefs and watched him squirm, sticky with Claude’s spit, longing for the heat of Claude’s body. Claude would smile and suggest that conversation is always better with tea as Lorenz silently cursed him and his skillful mouth.

Even in Claude’s fantasies, Lorenz had too much pride to beg, but, if Claude could bring him close enough to the edge, he might not have too much pride to take himself in hand as Claude watched. “Is there something I can help you with?” Claude would ask, as Lorenz moaned his frustration through gritted teeth, hand working fast, legs spread wide–

“We could probably pretend that the reason is political.”

Hold on.

When Claude slid off of him, Lorenz made the whiniest sound. In other circumstances, Claude would have enjoyed it immensely, but he was currently distracted by the discovery that Lorenz’s _plan_ was an even poorer excuse for a scheme than for a blow job.

“ _Probably_?” He took his hand out of his pants to better gesture his disbelief. “You had more than two weeks to come up with something, and that’s the best you can do?”

Of course, Claude already knew Lorenz had no head for schemes. Walking up and announcing “I will expose you” had to be the least effective way to learn someone’s secrets, although it had certainly provided _Claude_ with information. But Claude also knew that, of the thoughts Lorenz always had jingling around inside his pretty head, one of them was about politically advantageous marriage and at least two were variations on “Claude is the worst”. Apparently, expecting those thoughts to combine into something useful had been optimistic on his part.

“Of the two of us, I will gladly let you be the foremost expert on deceit and trickery,” Lorenz retorted, but Claude could tell that his heart wasn’t into it. He was looking down right into Claude’s eyes, and his tone was heavy with reproach, when he said, “Besides, you made it quite clear that the end of our arrangement was no great loss to you.”

If Claude buried his head into the soft inside of Lorenz’s thigh, he could probably get away with pretending he didn’t see the genuine hurt on Lorenz’s face.

“After you turned down my idea so easily, moving on seemed like the next logical step. I assumed you would be doing the same.”

This caused Claude to ask himself several questions simultaneously.

One of them was: _How terrible must Lorenz be at this if two days weren’t enough to come up with something better?_ That one pretty much answered itself.

Another was: _What even is there to move on from?_ It occurred to him that whatever it was, he hadn’t moved on from it, either. He was starting to suspect the answer wasn’t as simple as “really, _really_ good sex”.

There was also: _How much has Lorenz been thinking about all this?_ He wanted the answer to be “a lot more than I have”. He also didn’t, because, when Lorenz spent enough time thinking, he ended up being correct slightly more often than a stopped clock.

Lorenz’s hand had never left his hair, and he had started absentmindedly petting it. That, and the softness of Lorenz’s voice, made it feel a lot less like the jab it was supposed to be when he said, “I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised to be wrong. I never expected honesty from you.”

At some point Claude was going to have to examine why Lorenz’s admission that he couldn’t see through him made him feel so much like he _had_. For now, he reminded himself that Lorenz wasn’t nearly the threat he wanted to be, which was why Claude shouldn’t feel threatened, and that he took everything too seriously, which was why Claude shouldn’t feel guilty. He didn’t mean it to be apologetic when he kissed and nuzzled the side of Lorenz’s cock, but he couldn’t control whether Lorenz took it that way.

Thankfully, feeling sorry for Lorenz was a problem more likely to solve itself the more he opened his mouth.

“Naturally, you couldn’t simply give me up after getting a taste,” Lorenz continued, with something closer to his usual level of confidence. “I should have known that nothing good would come from self-doubt.”

“If that’s the lesson you took from that, I have just done the world a disservice,” Claude said solemnly.

Lorenz glared at him. That was much more comfortable.

“Alright, let me just–”

He griped the base of Lorenz’s dick and shuffled a bit on his knees. The carpet wasn’t that much softer than the floor.

“–and then we’ll see–” _if I can turn your incomplete mess of a plan into something usable_ “–if you can convince me to go along with your idea.”

“That is acceptable,” Lorenz said, instead of anything less arrogant.

At least, the next sound out of his mouth as Claude sucked on the head of his cock was a needy, breathless thing he tried to muffle with his hand. _That’s right_ , Claude thought, spitefully, as he tasted salt. _Who’s moving on? Not you_.

It must have been because he disliked the way it brushed against him and tickled that Lorenz took the time to tuck Claude’s braid neatly behind his ear. Perhaps it was to feel the way Claude’s face was heated from pleasure without even the need for his touch that Lorenz’s hand lingered, that his palm caressed Claude’s cheek, that his fingers traced Claude’s lips. Claude could have looked up and known, from the look on Lorenz’s expressive face. Instead, he closed his eyes again, and took more of Lorenz’s cock into his mouth, ignoring whatever part of him located above his belt that might have jumped or tightened.

Claude let Lorenz dictate the rhythm with one hand on the back of his head, then both of his hands grasping his hair. Let him remind himself of how good this was, of the perfectly accommodating slide of Claude’s lips and the skillful caress of his tongue. Warm and pliant like he must be in Lorenz’s fantasies, because who else would Lorenz even allow himself to fantasize about? Claude’s own cock throbbed at the thought, and with every relieved sound out of Lorenz’s mouth.

The tremble in Lorenz’s voice when he called his name in warning was his reward, the needy kind that made him moan in sympathy and anticipation. And then Lorenz called his name again, and again, and Claude _ached_ in time with the pulse of Lorenz’s cock as the taste of his release filled his mouth. Lorenz held him there, and for a delicious moment Claude was content to breath around him and savor his easy victory.

Claude found himself desperately aroused when he pulled away and let Lorenz’s cock fall back limply between his legs. He still managed to look up at him and grin, then open his mouth wide to show him it’s content, just because Lorenz hated it, and it had been a while.

Lorenz’s hand contrasted nicely with the redness of his face when he clamped it over his mouth. He turned away just before Claude triumphantly swallowed.

“Vulgar.” Predictable.

“Aw, so you won’t kiss me thank you?” Claude asked, like he had all the time in the world to banter. Like he wasn’t obviously, _achingly_ hard for Lorenz to see as he stood up and kicked his pants off. He was doing a convincing job of sounding casual, considering.

“No, but I am not opposed to returning the favor.” Lorenz didn’t even pretend to be looking at Claude’s face. “So that we can both go back to our negotiations with an unburdened mind.”

So eager. Claude pulled his shirt off.

“Shouldn’t you try to make me agree to your plan first?” He put one of his knees up on the bed. Lorenz shuffled back so that he sat farther from the edge. “This is a terrible way to conduct negotiations.”

Lorenz had to bend forward awkwardly to get his head even with Claude’s crotch. He talked right into it, maybe as a petty form of revenge. “Must you make everything difficult? Do not make me regret offering.”

“I’m not being difficult. I’m not even making you kneel on the floor.” Claude smiled down at Lorenz, not without difficulty. “Don’t say I’m never nice to you.”

He braced himself for some retaliatory teasing and taunting. He had enough self-awareness to know he deserved some of it. He had a good number of snarky replies ready to go.

He did not brace himself for Lorenz to take all of him into his mouth in one long, hot, wet slide.

The tactical problem with making fun of Lorenz’s first fumbling attempts at sucking cock was that it gave him plenty of incentive to get as good at it as he had thought he was. Not that Claude ever admitted it, but Lorenz’s confidence had never seemed to require anyone’s validation, although he had to be getting some now from how Claude was clutching his shoulder to keep his balance.

Those were the thoughts Claude was focusing on to keep himself from coming right this second, because, _gods_ , he was so close _already_ , and Lorenz’s smugness if he didn’t last at least five entire minutes was not something he wanted to witness. Focusing on the sway of Lorenz’s hair as his head bobbed did not help, and neither did focusing on the way his brow creased in concentration. Remembering the vicious bruises, long faded now, he had left on Lorenz’s shoulder last time, right where he was holding on to it, did not help at all.

Closing his eyes and thinking of politics did not help as much as it should have, because he had thought about all the reasons a Riegan might want to marry a Gloucester already, at some point in the last weeks, late at night, dick in hand, in his freshly laundered bed. His mind readily provided him with the same dozen or so answers he had come up with in between memories of Lorenz’s soft mouth on him, and suddenly all of them were plausible again.

And then he circled right back to _Is Lorenz really willing to trade his integrity for my cock?_ To Lorenz’s credit, he did not choke when Claude suddenly thrust his hips into his face, and mostly managed to swallow, even with Claude’s strangled cry as his only warning. He even lapped up the one stray drop, because a noble does not leave a mess, or because he enjoyed the taste more than he let on. Claude could not figure out which while still blinking his thoughts back into order, but he liked both answers.

There were decisions one should not be making while still reeling from the force of one’s last orgasm, while the person responsible looked up through his eyelashes and politely put a hand in front of his mouth to lick the last of one’s cum from his lips. So Claude sat down.

It was the correct tone for an ambiguously flirty taunt when he said, “Can _I_ kiss you thank you?” but the intention must have gotten lost, what with them being naked. So when Lorenz frowned and said, “Not on the mouth,” it made more sense for Claude to decide not to bring attention to the fact that his joke fell flat, and to kiss Lorenz on the shoulder. And Lorenz didn’t seem to mind that he rested his head there, and inhaled deep, so maybe this was fine.

“So, uh, about that plan.”

Lorenz froze midway through brushing his hair back into place with his fingers. “Yes?” he asked, hopeful. Then he seemed to catch himself. “Can you not wait until we both have our clothes back on?”

That was sage advice. Claude did not take it.

“First of all: it’s ridiculous,” Claude mumbled into Lorenz’s shoulder. “Please tell me you know this is ridiculous.”

Lorenz made to cross his legs, changed his mind, got up. “I disagree.”

Of course he did. That might be a problem, because Claude definitely did not have enough shame for the both of them.

“There is only one way I can think of to ensure that what we are doing is seen as a forgivable indiscretion rather than reputation ending evidence of our lack of judgment. You can either come up with a solution you find more acceptable, or be appropriately grateful.”

Would being engaged do that? Claude supposed Lorenz knew these things.

“Alright.” This was either going to work, or it was going to be hilarious. “Alright.” Claude picked his pants off the floor with his foot, to Lorenz’s obvious disapproval. “Well, I’ll let you take all the credit for that one.”

“How generous.” Lorenz looked up from buttoning his shirt to smirk at him smugly. “Just admit that you wish you could have thought of something this clever.”

“So, again, just making sure, we won’t need to be all publicly lovey-dovey?” Claude asked through the fabric of his shirt. “Because you and I both know you wouldn’t last a day.”

And because any attempt at sipping rose petal tea in the garden while Lorenz directed his cheesy lines at him would end with Claude expelling piping hot tea through his nose, and that just seemed like a health hazard.

“There will be no need for that.” Lorenz picked a purple hair from Claude’s jacket before handing it to him. “I have no more interest than you do in spending my days pretending we enjoy each other’s company. Although sitting next to each other may sometimes be expected, as well as the occasional dance.”

Oh, Claude just couldn’t wait to hear Lorenz’s opinion about his ballroom dancing skills.

“Of course, you should know all this,” Lorenz added, skeptical.

Claude _kind of_ already knew all this. He winked. “Just making sure this isn’t all an elaborate excuse for you to get to hold my hand.”

Lorenz didn’t even bother to look at him as he replied, “Again, do not think so highly of yourself. Now, if we are in agreement, then we should discuss the details, over tea, with all of our clothes on, like proper members of polite society.”

“Yes, Lorenz. Let’s just sit down and discuss the details of our fake engagement, like proper nobles.”

If Claude was going to make a terrible mistake, at least it would be an objectively funny one. That was the angle Claude would go with when Lorenz inevitably exposed them both, because, while records didn’t show if he could lie to save his life, Claude was sure he couldn’t do it to save their dignity: _this was Lorenz’s brilliant idea, and, haha, it was just so funny, how could I not go along with it?_

“I recently ran out of Almyran pine,” Lorenz was digging around his neatly organized tea chest, ignoring him, “but, oh! I did just get more of those cookies you like.”

Lorenz emerged with the cookies, a tin of chamomile and a self-satisfied smile. When Claude had to explain why he thought it a good use of his time and talents to tug at the delicate strings of Alliance politics just so Lorenz could keep fucking him with his mind at ease, he would turn this moment into one of the punch lines.

“They aren’t sweet enough for Lysithea’s taste, and here I was worried that most of them would go to waste. Funny how things sometimes work themselves out.”

Hilarious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing. Hope you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest, this is my first time writing much of anything and I'm aware it's not great. Hopefully there were still a few good bits in there!


End file.
